


Hidden

by lh_moth



Category: Storm Hawks (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Minor Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-24 01:10:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16170530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lh_moth/pseuds/lh_moth
Summary: After being defeated by the Storm Hawks yet again, the Dark Ace considers the current situation upon returning to Cyclonia.Set in an AU where the Dark Ace isn't the villain he seems to be.





	Hidden

**Author's Note:**

> Starting early on, one of things I liked in Storm Hawks was how a lot of their victories made sense. But there were still times I found myself wondering if the villains - especially the Dark Ace - were really trying. One moment in particular led me to speculating on the idea that maybe he was purposefully throwing the battle and, well, here we are. I'm sure other people have explored this concept before; I hope my take is at least somewhat entertaining.
> 
> I may also be taking some liberties with the show’s canon. A lot of my perceptions about the universe were created within the first twenty episodes, and there was a lot I wasn’t impressed by in the second season. So, while I really enjoy the show, I am putting my own spin on certain details. Sorry in advance for the discrepancies.
> 
> Thanks, as always, to my friend and beta, Vera Sterne, for editing. Though she hasn't seen the actual show, so any mistakes in those details are my own.
> 
> Please enjoy!

Wheels bounced as they contacted the hangar floor while the wings of the air skimmer shuddered, the battered mechanism refusing to retract correctly. Gritting his teeth, the Dark Ace forcefully twisted the manual gear. The metal protested loudly, but the wings folded back. If they didn’t sit flat against the body, if the rough treatment most likely increased the damage, at least the vehicle came to a halt normally, allowing him to step off instead of having to jump.

He was the Dark Ace, after all. He had a reputation to maintain and didn’t need to suffer the indignity of being forced into a controlled crash. Bad enough to come limping back after losing to a ragtag group of teenagers.

Or so the Talons saw it. In truth, the Storm Hawks were a team of skilled pilots who routinely showed a surprising level of resourcefulness. They certainly lived up to the name of the predecessors, would someday perhaps even surpass them. In the meantime, they were unintentionally aided by Snipe’s incompetence, Repton’s bumbling underlings, and Ravess’ showy over-confidence. Even with the Storm Hawks’ relative inexperience, it was easy to take advantage of such obvious flaws. A fact which Ace was grateful for. Each of those defeats helped to mask his own and allowed him to be more forgiving in battle.

His skimmer secured in its usual alcove, the Dark Ace grabbed the arm of a passing worker. “See to the repairs of my skimmer. Have it ready by nightfall.”

The Cyclonian snapped to attention, automatically uttering a “Yes, sir!” even as her mind contemplated the difficulty of the task. The timeframe he gave would be a tight one, but should be possible with some quick work. He tried not to make his demands too unreasonable. The power balance in Cyclonia was precarious enough, and punishing people for failing impossible orders only bred dissent.

The silence stretched into a awkward pause until the Dark Ace glowered. “Well,” he hissed, “get on with it.”

The woman paled, practically squeaking out her “Sir!” as she hurried away.

Resisting the desire to roll his eyes, the Dark Ace strode across the deck and out of the hangar. Suppressing his limp was painful, but he refused to show any ill-effects from the recent battle. Being unassailable was an important part of the image he created. While his reputation was enough to keep most Talons in their place, there was the occasional ambitious one, always on the lookout for any opportunity.

Thankfully, the Cyclonians in the corridor were more interested in avoiding him. His air of fury, along with the fast-spreading news of his most recent defeat, allowed him to reach his quarters without being accosted by any petty problems.

The door slid closed behind him, a faint hum indicating the lock engaged. For the first time since his men dug him from the rocks, Ace allowed himself a grimace of pain. He immediately set about removing his armour. Despite his cautious movements, he couldn’t stop a hiss of pain as he loosened his knee guard. Pulling off the shoulder piece was even more painful. Wincing as the last piece was removed, he began peeling off the dirt-encrusted clothing as well, revealing an array of bruises forming down his left side. His fingers traced over the injuries, gently probing the worst areas. While the bruises would remain painful for some time, nothing was torn or broken. Overall, it was better than what he had feared.

Turning his attention to the armour, Ace again found the damage to be superficial. He would look closer later, but aside from a few dents and deep scoring, it seemed fine. It was the kind of damage he could repair himself. For the time being, he could use his secondary set. The pieces weren’t as solid and the fit wasn’t as close, but it would do for a few days.

Storing the damaged armour properly, he glanced at the timepiece on the shelves. There was still time before Cyclonis would expect his report. Not long enough to bathe properly, but he could clean up a little. Ace limped to the sink. The lukewarm water was a welcome feeling, washing the dirt and grime from his face and shoulders.

A sharp bolt of pain caught him off-guard as he straightened. He glanced at the clock again. Treating the bruises would delay him, but the the modicum of relief would be worth weathering Cyclonis’ irritation.

Going to the cabinets along the wall, he opened the bottom one and removed the small heating frame. The design was basic, with a setting for crystals in the base and an adjustable insert for pots and bowls. Ace pulled out the box beside it. Inside, there was an assortment of cooking crystals. Needing nothing more than a warming glow, he selected one of the smallest ones. With the crystal secured, he left the element to heat.

Bandages, a small bowl, and a jar of base salve were also retrieved from the cabinets and set beside the frame. Another shelf held a small collection of carefully labelled bottles filled with various colours of powdered crystal. His hand lingered over the nearly full bottle of paralysing crystal, useful for the numbing effects. He passed over it, though, instead taking the cooling crystal. It was tempting to numb the pain, but he couldn’t afford the loss of mobility, no matter how slight it would be.

That was the price of not having someone trustworthy at his back. In a broader view, it was also one of the weaknesses of Cyclonia’s Talons. The internal strife and unreliable nature of the pilots made them easy prey for a well-coordinated team. Especially one like the Storm Hawks. In all the time he’d observed the Sky Knights – whether from within or without – Ace had rarely seen such cohesion in a squadron. The level of trust between them was admirable. Even in Ace’s squad–-

He cut off that line of thinking, focusing his attention on his current task.

Using a flat wooden spoon, he scooped out a portion of salve into the bowl and placed it into the insert. The jar was getting low again; he’d have to replenish his supply next time he had a quiet moment.

Of course, quiet was in short supply these days. Cyclonia was constantly on the move as Cyclonis tested her and her enemies’ power. Each confrontation was like an experiment to see which tactics worked, and Cyclonis applied what she learned to her next strategy. Even her losses were turned to an advantage.

Ace frowned as he slowly stirred the salve. He never imagined Cyclonis would move so soon. Maintaining an empire was challenging enough without starting a war. But Cyclonis’ youth didn’t impede her sharp mind, a fact which kept Ace from moving against her more overtly. After everything sacrificed to get him to this position, he couldn’t risk losing it without a high guarantee of success.

It was why he relied so heavily on the Storm Hawks to upset Cyclonis’ plans, and the bitter irony of that was not lost on him.

Seeing the salve had loosened to the correct consistency, Ace removed the bowl and deactivated the cooking crystal. He opened the bottle of powder and carefully measured the small amount he would need. It flared brightly as he poured it into the bowl, the heat activating the cooling properties. Ace folded the powdered crystal in, distributing it evenly. The glow slowly faded. The mixture stiffened to a paste-like thickness. Gathering some on his fingers, Ace gingerly applied it to his knee. The welcome cooling sensation reminded him how lucky he was his injuries weren’t any worse.

And it was mostly luck, rather than any skill on his part. He wouldn’t be injured at all if not for simple pilot error. Most of the blame fell on a young Talon who couldn’t control his skimmer after taking minimal damage from that sharpshooter, Finn. With a better reaction time, he could’ve avoided smashing into the porous rock face directly above Ace’s flight path. The ensuing cascade still should’ve been easy to avoid, had Aerrow not been directly behind him. Pulling out into a roll – Ace’s best option – would have trapped the other pilot, so he tried a dive instead.

In hindsight, it was a foolish decision. If not for a serendipitous overhang, he would’ve lost his skimmer completely. He needed to overcome this ridiculous desire to protect the boy. Aerrow was a more than capable pilot, Ace knew. If he wasn’t Quarl’s son…

Ace unrolled a length of bandage, placing a layer over the salve. He kept it loose enough to avoid impeding his movement and flat enough to pass unnoticed beneath his armour. While most weren’t observant enough to realise the significance, he worried about Cyclonis’ reaction. The Storm Hawks were already a thorn in her side. He didn’t want to give her a reason to reevaluate how great a threat they posed. The situation could become…complicated.

Tying off the bandage on his shoulder, Ace hurriedly moved to dress. It galled him to leave his supplies in disarray, but he already wasted too much time here. He paused before leaving, checking his appearance in the small mirror by the sink. The armour effectively obscured the bandages and, most importantly, it wasn’t apparent that he had rushed. He was the Dark Ace, after all. Image was important. He met his reflection’s gaze with a smirk that came far too naturally these days.

Satisfied, he stepped from his quarters, and only narrowly avoided crashing into a nervous-looking Talon. The Dark Ace roughly pushed the startled man aside, glaring. The Talon had the good sense to bow in salute and otherwise remain silent as the Dark Ace passed by him.

Clearly Cyclonis’ patience had run out if she was sending men to fetch him. He forced himself to lengthen his stride, ignoring the fresh surge of pain from his knee. It would be best not to keep her waiting any longer.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally, this story was meant to be longer, with more backstory, but the AU sort of took on a life of its own. For now, this is more of an introduction to the premise. Hopefully, I’ll be able to fill in some of the missing details in the future.
> 
> I do already have another story in the works, but I can't make any promises on how quickly it will be finished...
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this piece. Thank you very much for reading!


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